Highlander Entangled

by Vonda Sinclair

  They trailed the tracks from the wood onto a narrow, muddy wagon road between hills, then increased their speed to a gallop. They couldn't be far behind Holme and his men, maybe a half hour.

  He prayed Kristina was alive. But what if Holme had already injured her again, like last time?

  ***

  Gripping the bridle in one hand and Kristina with the other, Red Holme kicked the horse into a full gallop along the muddy road flecked with small patches of snow. The wriggling lass was still wrapped in the sooty canvas and lying across his lap. He'd heard men's shouts behind them at the river. The Camerons were giving chase, damn them! He'd hoped they would all be burned to ash by now, or at least delayed by the crashed boat in the river.

  Holme had to take Kristina farther away. If he could get her back to Stirling, she would be much easier to hide at a run-down inn on the outskirts. He was friends with one of the proprietors who would not report him for keeping a lass against her will. He grinned. Then he could enjoy her under him for days. But they were still a few days' ride from there.

  At the moment, Holme and his men were coming upon a whitewashed stone kirk and a wee village too small to hide in. Anyone who saw them here might give the Camerons information.

  Abruptly, Holme's horse slipped in the mud and snow, stumbled and careened onto his side, falling and tossing Holme and Kristina to the ground.

  "Damnation!" Holme roared, pain blasting through his left knee. He hoped it wasn't broken.

  Although his knee had struck a rock at the side of the road, Kristina had broken most of his fall.

  His four men turned and cantered their horses back. "What happened? Are you hurt?" Dobson asked.

  Holme cursed again and pushed himself to his feet. He limped forward, testing out his knee strength. He'd have a large bruise, no doubt. "I'll live," he grumbled. "Catch the horse and see if he's injured," he ordered. After falling, the horse had bounded to his hooves again and trotted several yards away.

  Scroggie caught Holme's horse and led it back, then examined the horse's hooves. "He's thrown a shoe."

  "God's blood! We don't have time for this! The Camerons are on our tail. I'll take your horse, Scroggie. You hide and, once the Camerons are gone, take my horse to the farrier in the village, there. Then, meet us in Stirling in a day or two."

  Frowning, Scroggie nodded.

  Dobson stood staring at the canvas the lass was wrapped in. "Is she still alive?"

  "Aye, of course. Why do you ask?"

  "She hasn't moved or made a sound."

  Holme limped toward her, remembering she had broken his fall from the horse. She was a fragile little thing. He hoped she hadn't broken her neck, because he did want to have some fun with her. He unrolled her from the canvas and turned her onto her back, finding she wore naught but a soot-stained white smock she'd obviously slept in the night before. It conformed enticingly to her every curve. Her pale skin was smudged as well. Her beautiful blond hair was unbound and tangled about her shoulders. He saw no blood upon her but she lay unmoving, as limp as a wet rag, her eyes closed.

  "Kristina?" Holme nudged her with his foot. She did not respond. Was she dead?

  Annoyance and regret punched at him. Hell, he didn't know why he liked her so much. She was not a strong enough woman for him. No doubt a bedding from him would kill her, if she wasn't already dead.

  Grunting at the pains shooting through his knee, he crouched next to her and placed his finger beneath her nose. In the cool morning air, he felt a slight stirring and warmth coming from her nostrils. "She's breathing. She was injured in the fall. That's all." That made him feel a mite better.

  "Horses!" Dobson yelled as he stared in the direction they'd come from, his agitated gelding stamping about.

  Holme heard the distant sound of hooves pounding the earth, growing closer and closer. "Hell! 'Tis the Camerons." They had not come into view yet.

  Holme cursed, picked up Kristina and tossed her over his shoulder. Gritting his teeth against the pain in his knee, he trotted with her toward the kirk, the closest structure in the area. "Take the horses into the wood behind the kirk!" he yelled to his men. "Then, scatter and circle back around. Kill every Cameron you see! They'll never suspect I'm in the kirk."

  He opened the door, went in and closed it. He placed Kristina onto the wooden floor, then dragged a heavy oak shelf laden with items in front of the door.

  He drew his sword, fury and the need for revenge quickening his blood. Kristina might be near death, but he forced himself not to care. His main concern was Colin Cameron. "If 'tis him, he's a dead man," Holme growled.

  ***

  As Colin and his search party rode around the bend, a man was running on foot, leading two horses around the back of a kirk toward the wood.

  Colin veered off the road onto the snow-covered area near a small stream. Hooves had torn up the snow, grass and black dirt. Some sort of soot-blackened canvas lay on the ground.

  Colin leapt from the horse before it even stopped, placed the targe upon his forearm and drew his sword and dirk. He ran behind the kirk, his friends following, their boots pounding the earth.

  Four men, leading five horses, headed into the wood.

  "Halt!" Colin ordered. "Or we'll fill you with arrows!"

  Releasing the horses, the men stopped and spun around, their swords and targes drawn and ready for battle.

  Colin halted, his gaze running over them. He thought two of them looked familiar but didn't know their names.

  "Where is Lady Kristina?" he demanded. "And Red Holme?"

  The men's faces paled, for they obviously realized they were greatly outnumbered. One by one, they dropped their swords and dirks.

  "Where did he take Lady Kristina?" Colin shouted, glancing behind them and farther along into the wood, but seeing no one.

  "The door of the kirk is blocked." Ralston yelled behind him. "I tried it."

  "He's inside," Colin growled. "Tie them up." He hastened to the front of the kirk with Ralston. Bryce and a few more followed.

  Colin beat on the heavy oak door. "Open the door, Holme! Do you think God and the kirk is going to protect you now? After you've done so many evil deeds?"

  "Go to hell!" Holme shouted from inside.

  Colin ground his teeth. "Give me Lady Kristina unharmed and I won't kill you."

  "Ha! Come in alone and see if you can take her from me. Coward!"

  "I'll be glad to! Open the door." Battle lust surging, Colin was ready to run the man through.

  "Tell your other men to back away, or I'll kill her now!" Holme shouted.

  Colin glanced around at Ralston and Bryce. Could Holme see them through the small glass windows?

  "I'll slip around back to see if I can crawl in a window," Bryce breathed.

  Colin nodded.

  Weapons drawn, Ralston and the MacKenzies slipped farther along beside the church, out of sight, in the event Holme opened the door.

  "I'm alone now!" Colin called out. "Open the door and fight me, man to man."

  Scraping sounded, as if a large piece of furniture was being dragged across the wooden floor, then the door inched open. The building was dark inside.

  He had no inkling what sort of weapons Holme had. The bastard could shoot him with an arrow for all he knew. Colin moved to the side of the door, so he would be out of the line of sight and lifted his targe and sword.

  "Welcome, Cameron! Come on in," Holme taunted.

  Why did this feel like a trap? He glanced back and met Ralston's gaze. He stood about ten feet away now. Looking intense, Ralston nodded.

  Colin assumed that meant the young man who claimed to be Kristina's brother would be his backup. If everything he'd said was true, naturally he would want to rescue his sister. He had never done anything to cause Colin to mistrust him.

  Colin turned his attention back to the open door and yelled, "Kristina?"

  Inside, Holme laughed. "She cannot answer you. She's knocked out cold. Nearly dead. You'll have to hurr
y if you intend to save her life."

  Dear God, nay! Fear and rage infused Colin's veins. As he took a step to charge through the door, someone yanked him back, sending him stumbling off kilter, and bypassed him.

  "Damnation, Ralston," Colin growled low.

  The younger man was already charging through the door, sword, targe and dirk in hand. Colin dashed after him.

  Inside the building, swords clanged and the two men grunted and growled curses. A high, open shelf containing several items sat to Colin's right. Holme stood behind it. Ralston struck out powerfully, and his blade stabbed into Holme's shoulder. Face still covered in soot, Holme roared in pain and sliced his blade across Ralston's thigh. Ralston stumbled backward and fell.

  "Holme!" Colin shouted, trying to take his attention from the younger man so he wouldn't deal a killing blow.

  Blood ran from Holme's sword hand. Baring his teeth, he shrank back behind the shelf.

  Before Colin could wonder what his strategy was, a blade slashed between the shelves toward Colin's gut. He brought his targe down just in time to block the sword's tip. Putting his shoulder and whole weight behind it, he shoved the targe against the heavy wooden shelf, toppling it onto Holme. The whoreson roared, his blade thrashing, but the shelf trapped him, constraining his movements. Colin positioned his sword and stabbed between the shelves, connecting with flesh. Holme shouted out in pain and fury. Colin further took advantage of Holme's trap of his own making, stabbing again and again until the man grew silent and still.

  "I think he's dead," someone shouted. "I'll check him."

  Pulling himself back from the intense battle rage, Colin glanced around to find Bryce behind him. Cyrus and Fraser knelt near Kristina, who lay unmoving on the floor. Her eyes were closed. Soot stained her white smock and pallid skin. Cold terror chilled Colin, and he dropped his weapons. "What the hell did he do to her?" He hastened toward her.

  "She's alive," Cyrus said.

  "Thank the saints." Colin fell to his knees beside her.

  Fraser had already cut the gag off her and was now cutting the wrist bindings with his small sgian dubh.

  Sitting nearby, Ralston muttered a curse through clenched teeth while two of the MacKenzie clansmen bound his bleeding thigh.

  Colin turned his attention back to Kristina, worried that Holme had injured her terribly.

  "To be knocked out like this, she must have a head injury, but I don't see one." Cyrus ran the tips of his fingers over Kristina's skull, beneath her hair. When he reached the back, he cursed.

  "What is it?" Colin asked, an ache in the pit of his stomach.

  "A large swollen knot on the back of her head." He withdrew his hand and looked at his fingers. "But no blood. Whatever hit her did not break the skin."

  "I wager he had her rolled up in that damned sooty canvas I saw outside," Colin growled.

  "Without doubt."

  "Kristina?" Colin gently picked up her hand and ran his fingers over her arm to see if it was broken.

  Cyrus felt along her other arm, then pulled up her sleeve to reveal her upper arm bent at an odd angle. "A broken arm. No telling what other injuries."

  Colin cursed and ground his teeth, glaring back at Holme's bloody body beneath the shelf. "That bastard."

  Using a sash, Cyrus bound her broken arm to her body to prevent further injury to it. "Do you want to check her legs to see if they're broken?"

  "Aye," Colin said, praying they weren't.

  "We must get her back to the castle quickly so the healers can help her. We'll make sure the horses are ready to go." Cyrus and Fraser left, while two of the MacKenzie clansmen helped Ralston limp outside.

  "Can you bring the plaid blanket from behind my saddle?" Colin asked Bryce, the only man remaining.

  "Aye." He hastened out the door.

  Colin lifted the smock's hem and pressed his fingers along Kristina's cool, pale legs, finding no obvious broken bones or any other injuries, thank the saints. He drew her smock down again. He needed to get her wrapped up and warmed as soon as possible.

  Bryce returned with the wool blanket.

  "Her legs appear to be unharmed. I simply hope the ride back to the castle doesn't worsen her injuries."

  "We'll have to be careful," Bryce said.

  Colin felt as if his soul were rent in two as he carefully wrapped Kristina in the blanket, lifted her from the floor, and carried her outside. The other men rushed around him, dragging Holme's body from the kirk, rounding up the horses, and getting their prisoners ready to take back to Rhodie. Three Camerons would hang back to notify the local village and minister of what had happened in the kirk and help clean up.

  Colin stood by his horse, looking down into Kristina's pale, impassive face. "Please, God, keep her alive," he whispered. "I love this lass more than life itself. I cannot live without her."

  ***

  A half hour later, Colin and the search party arrived back at Rhodie. Thankfully, no more smoke trailed toward the sky, but the castle mattered little to him compared to Kristina. He simply hoped no one had been injured or killed.

  Two of the MacKenzie clansmen had raced quickly back to the castle and notified everyone of what had happened, so the healers would be prepared for both Kristina and Ralston.

  When Colin entered the bailey, Neacal waited near the entrance steps, ready to take Kristina from him. He frowned with concern. "She has not awakened?"

  "Nay." Colin handed her down to him, then dismounted. "Was anyone hurt in the fire?"

  "Naught serious."

  Anna rushed down the steps toward them, tears in her eyes. "How is she?"

  "Still knocked out from the blow to the back of her head. I'm taking her to my bedchamber. Can you tell Deidra we're here?"

  "Aye," Anna said. "We'll be right up."

  Colin took Kristina in his arms, carried her into the keep and upstairs to his room. The smoke scent was not as strong here, and a warm fire burned in the hearth. He gently laid her on the bed.

  "Kristina?" he murmured.

  When she still didn't respond, his gut knotted.

  Anna, Deidra and her two helpers hurried into the chamber with their supplies.

  "Her legs do not appear to be broken," Colin said. "But she might have other hidden injuries."

  "We'll check her over." Deidra removed the blanket.

  "I'll wait over here." Colin turned his back to stare out the window at the leaden, gray sky and snowy mountains.

  He prayed they would find no other wounds. The head injury and broken arm were bad enough. The women worked quietly, murmuring amongst themselves for several minutes.

  "The men said Holme was dead," Anna murmured at his elbow.

  Colin glanced at her, nodding.

  She blinked back tears. "What did he do to her? Beat her?"

  "I have no inkling. But we figured he had her rolled up in a sooty canvas. He probably took her from the bedchamber in it. 'Twas lying beside the road."

  "Did he toss her from the horse?" Anna's green eyes flashed with rage.

  Imagining that, Colin's whole body ached and his fury flared again. "Knowing Holme, aye. Or, considering they were riding like the devil, she could've fallen off. Either way, 'tis most likely why her head wasn't bleeding—the canvas at least protected her in that way."

  "I'm thankful to you that Holme can no longer hurt anyone else."

  "Thank your brother also. Ralston shoved me aside and rushed in first. That's why he was injured."

  Her eyes widened. "Good Lord. He must truly be our brother."

  "I believe he is."

  Anna moved back toward the bed, but knowing Kristina was still uncovered and likely unclothed, Colin did not turn.

  "What have you discovered?" Anna asked.

  "She has several new bruises that are starting to swell and turn violet, especially her shoulder and the upper part of her back on one side," Deidra reported. "But, thankfully, no cuts. And no more broken bones, besides her arm."

  The absence o
f cuts was good news. Less chance of infection. But still, hearing about the bad bruising made Colin want to strangle Holme, even though the bastard no longer drew breath. How could any man treat the lass in such a horrific way?

  "She wasn't—" Anna's voice caught. "The knave didn't force her, did he?"

  "I saw no signs of rape," Deidra said.

  Thank the saints for that. Colin hadn't seen any indications of rape either when he'd checked her legs earlier, but he was glad to have it confirmed by the healer.

  "What about her ribs?" Anna asked.

  "Let me see." Silence followed. "I don't feel any broken ones, but they could be cracked. I'll have to check them again when she wakes."

  Colin closed his eyes, wishing he had been the one who'd sustained the injuries instead of Kristina. Although she was resilient and strong in spirit, she was physically too fragile to endure such rough handling. Still furious with Holme, he clenched his teeth.

  "We have her covered now," Deidra said.

  Inhaling a deep breath to dispel his anger, Colin turned around, again struck by her wan skin. "When do you think she will awaken?"

  "Cannot say." Deidra frowned. "Hopefully this eve or tomorrow."

  "What can I do to help?" Anna moved closer to the bed.

  "Mix these herbs into a poultice. We'll put it on her head to reduce the swelling."

  While Anna stirred dried herbs in a bowl, Deidra and her assistants set Kristina's arm.

  Colin scowled, glad she was asleep for that, because the pain would be excruciating if she were awake. Still, he prayed she would awaken within the next hour or two, for it would bode well for her speedy recovery.

  He paced from the window to the door, over and over, feeling helpless as he watched the healers work. He mentally urged Kristina to open her eyes, grimace or flutter an eyelash. Anything. But she lay motionless.

  A strong, comforting hand clasped Colin's shoulder. He glanced aside to find Neacal standing next to him, looking troubled and solemn.

  Colin wanted to thank him for being there but suddenly found his throat was too tight to speak.